THE WOMAN ENTERS.

Poverty Bay Herald, Volume XXXV, Issue 11231, 21 March 1908, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE WOMAN ENTERS.

In the chaparral on the edge of the bluff, Dick Matson lay flat on his stomach, his chin propped on one hand, while the other rested lightly on the shining barrel of a rifle. Below, on the further bank of the river, Escolante, the cattlethief, strutted baok and forth before the door of nis cauin, nis gun in his hands; his strident voice proclaiming to the air his disdain for all gringos in general, and for the white-livered, chingado Mat. son in particular. Matson, unseen, and. his presence only dimly apprehended by the strange animal instinct, of the half-breed, could heai with sufficient plainness the gusts of wrath and objurgation which floated up from below; and. when his own name was .mingled with especially acrid vituperations, the rage to which he dared give no more audible vent expressed itself in. terise^ and impotent mutterings. "I'll "get you yet', you damned old cattle thief. 0 Lord, O Lord, to have to lie here and take such blasted impudence from a blaok-hearted Apache mongrel !'* This when Escolante *s remarks on the status and heredity of the 'gringo became particularly personal and historic. "Wish I wasn't a white man and I'd take a. potshot at you for luck, jusfcvas you stand, you infernal,- cattlefctealing, lying whelp. Cursed nonsense anyway, waiting ' for proof , and taking a man to the law, when I know darn well you've a steer of mine stowed away iji the bushes somewhere. Wait, till I fincl your -chache, or catch you red-handed ; and I'll make' yoi! sweat for this." So each vocal volley from beloW, directed against the unseen foe that 'the half-breed apprehended to be lurking near, was answered by the hidden enemy with one no less heartfelt because oi being, for strategic purposes, necessarily unheard. . „"J ; As tim e/ passed Matson's limbs grew increasingly cramped and stiff. Decidedly, he reflected, Escolante had the besl of the game.; He .cursed softly and warily stretched himself into a new posiL l -°?V t The hours sli PP ed by; and still the halt-breed, warned by his subtle iijstincf of danger, kept up^ his grotesque parade; and still the watching man was baf. fled of .his clue. The shadows lengthened on the river. A. few crows, loudly cawing, shook themselves wut of the branches of a tree 'near the cabin and winged themselves for the homeward flight. Dusk was all but fallen; and the watcher painfully stirred his limbs/ preparing for a furtive retreat, when a new element entered the scene below. > j ' The girl who stepped to the door of the cabin was slim and lithe as a willow f loin the . stream. Her black hair fell sleek and straight on either side of hei lace, hanging in thick braids nearly to her Jmees. She raised one hand to hei forehead, sliading • her eyes for a lorig lwk up the river, and the movement had tjie 1 ., supple, untaught grace of a- wild tiling-- of- the woods. Matson drew his breath in something that came dangerously near to being 'a whistle. 'Si>. this was Escqlante's daughter—child of a Mexican mother and a half-breed father— who since her mother's death had been with the sisters at Santa Barbara. He vaguely recalled having heard of the girl's return. This could bo; none other than she; for what woman young and beautiful ; would ' foregather with that wicked old devil, Escolante. "•' He- cautiously reached for his binoculars, with which he had so carefully scanned the landscape earlier in the day. •1 he ■ girl stood as if posed, straining her level gaze toward the sunset: The glass revealed her face, a warm brown oval, the curves as ,soft and perfect as a- child s yet with the fullness and richness of /early womanhood. > The heavy brows were arched.' The thick lashes, fringing lids now wide-flung over soft fawn-like eyes, surely must shadow her cheek when the lids were lowered. The red, curving lips were slightly parted, disclosing wlute teeth, firm-set and regular. , ; v :•.■;; The , glass did its work well., The girl might have, been standing closel by :, so close that if one reached out *a 'fiaiid one might touch the brown curve of the cheek, or part of silky^masses of her hair. The man caught his breath sharp ly till it hissed between his teeth. The pain in his, limbs was forgotten The girl's face held his like a spell. Suddenly the upraised hand fell to hei side. Escolante's daughter turned, with a swift grace, arid entered the rude cabin; The sun's red rim slipped below the horizon. Soon a light shone out in the cabin. The man on the bluff lav watching it till far into the night. But his head was sunk on his arms and his gun was unheeded at his side. When a black .figure for an instant darkened the doorway his heart leaped up. Then the old gleam of liate sprank anew in las «yes. It was the half-breed. The man in the chaparral softly raised himself. ''By God, Til settle you yet,-' he exulted. And in the dark be shook his clenched fist at the cattle^ I thief, \. Then he stealthily withdrew. , ■'' * ■•-. *.-'"■ *■ * ' . * Aiuionth had passed and again it wa* tlie. dark, of the moon., The time had dragged heavily for ole Escolante, for with the accursed gringo: so closely, watching, even a practisec iiand must move warily, and it was hai'c to go empty with fat cattle feeding al one's very door. To Dick Matson time had flown or golden wings. Love and hate wax. wel together in a, strong man's heart; ant the red lips of Dolores were sweet. To the girl the month had passct as a day. it is good to live 1 when th< blood is warm ; and young love- js darinj and 4o«s not wait ior the dark of tht moon. 1 , j • On this night Escolante ate his lasi meal' of frijoles and tortillas withouL th< customary scorn. He even ventured i few coarse jests with Dolores, who was dear to him as the apple of his eye. A man may well .jest whose knife is whet ted for the killing, and who knows thai on the morrow he will feed fat, voiding Ins hate and filling his stomach . at brit and the same time. Dolores met his badinage with easy response and .well-simu-lated affection. It is 'easy to scattei careless affection from, the lips when th( heuvt is brimming over with love. Without, men gathered quietly in a certain lonely glade. The night was heaVy about them.. In tlie silence eacl; man could hear his own heart-beat anc his straini'ng breath. The little- voices of the night shrilled loudly, and the sound of the cattle cropping the ricl glass was like a thousand engines in tlieir ears. The waiting had lengthened to hours before a' fat steer coughed and fell undei the knife. Then something whirred ir tJie gloom ; and then a lantern flared ouj?! Escolante was caught, red-handed. His ludicrous dismay when the deft-flung riata tightened round him drew a burst of rough, mirth from the sheriff as In slipped on the half-breed's wrists the symbol of the law and its .bondage. Bul when Dick Matson stepped from tht darkness and reclaimed . his riata. tht cattle-thief broke into fierce vitupera tions, for this was the most hated, and therefore the most preyed-upon of all tht gringos. - "Save your wind, old man," laughed Dick Matson. "You'll need it for the blessing, for to-morrow I marry youi daughter." Escolante grew livid and his jaw dropped. Then he opened a fresh vollej of imprecations, hurling the lie in the gringo s teeth. - . Dick laughed a careless laugh. "Come here, Dolores," he said. Like a shadow the girl slipped out oj the blackness and stood beside him, Dick slid an arm about her and bending kissed her full on the mouth. Then the half-breed went mad with rage, and spat and screamed out curses on the pair until it was horrid to heai him. The sheriff and his men had troubh to holel him. Dolores trembled and shrank againsl her lover. But Dick Matson only laugh ed his easy laugh and tightened his am around her. Then he turned and drev her with him into the forest. ♦■♦ ♦ ♦ No more cattle are stolen or killec within the range of the Cross Bar Y The cattlemen sleep well of nights ant Dick Matson grows rich off his profits Several plump brown children play aboui his door ; and of these he is inordinately proud, as is also Dolores, who sees ii them adorable replicas of the man sh< worships. The two are very happy, fo;

Dolores is still slim and beautiful; and Matson wants no better life, than that of the range and his own fireside. Thero are moments, however, when the hah* stiffens on the back of his neck, aud a chill runs along his spine. These are moments when he reflects on the fact that the utmost that the courts could award to Escolante was a life sentence; and that there is always the chance thafc the prisoner may escape, or that a too-lenient governor may -exercise the right of parden. — Katherine Lynch.